Long Testaments Poems
Long Testaments Poems. Below are the most popular long Testaments by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Testaments poems by poem length and keyword.
BOTTLE DANCE
Across my land, abysses gnaw at automobiles,
From the foot of the mountain,
To the shores of the oil fountain.
Certificated youths drinking piss to mellow their brains,
Clutching at wheels, dodging bumps into fog lights.
“Stupid, ing dog” curse survivors of amputation “you bastard”
“Who cares, you swine” retorts I the offender
just before crashing into the next one.
In my shack, counting my yields and sighing,
evading the burning eyes of hungry breeds.
How did I ever get here?
In the ring stood I, surrounded by Foncha, Endeley, Jua and Ntumazah
Um Nyobe sang the UPC song and they danced.
They danced the bottle dance.
Sandwiching in the center, on the slaughter slab, my motherland.
Nigeria to the left, La Republique to the right,
Trampling upon outright independence.
Foncha danced and Endeley danced and Nyobe sang and Britain watched.
The tune was clear, the rhythm was jazzed but the lyrics were blur;
Whence had a nation’s independence,
Been conditioned upon attachment to already independent states?
So how did we ever get here?
A loaf of bread baked in the flames of WWI
And served into the plates of Imperial barons of foreign insanity
Too blind to the tongues of oneness.
Drawing a line far far away in the halls of mirror
That tore grandmother’s breasts apart.
The story of the Ewes of Togoland
Was being whispered in her land while she slept.
A line dragged across the highlands of the Adamawa and drained into the Atlantic,
Sullied the virginity and orthography of kamerun.
Grooming a set of dysfunctional twins through years of alien doctrines,
Only to be reunited in an unholy matrimony called Cameroon or Cameroun.
Testaments of tongues foreign like those on a devil’s Pentecost,
That sowed seeds of immortal division.
So this is how really I got here!
A son deprived of the warmth of a Mother
Drained of her milk,
Tapped and shipped offshore.
Scorned and oppressed by a brother,
His name slowing fading away from the sands of time.
And now, the land of bottle dancers clamour for a new dance:
For I know how we got here and I too want to dance;
Federation to the left, secession to the right,
Trampling upon the pseudo 1972 re-unification.
The blood of the brave pipe the tunes
And rhythms of gunshots meet hallelujah,
Sang in a coffin.
Robert Sherriff - Australian - Poet -Author - Singer - Actor - American Historian – Photographer
Has anyone seen my old friend? Abraham
In the ever-turning pages of history, specific years stand like pillars, holding up the weight of profound change: 1865, the year of the Civil War's end and the abolition of slavery; 1881, the year of President Garfield's assassination; 1901, the year of President McKinley's assassination and the rise of Theodore Roosevelt; and 1963, the year of President Kennedy's assassination and the Civil Rights Movement.
Will history repeat itself on January 12, 2025? Each of these years marks a moment of transformation, a shift in our nation's consciousness.
Remember 1865, when Abraham Lincoln's vision of unity and equality was cut short, yet his legacy ignited the flame of freedom that still burns bright.
Reflect on 1962 and the iconic moment when Marilyn Monroe serenaded a president, symbolizing the complex interplay between fame and politics. These were not just moments but testaments to the resilience and determination of these historical figures, inspiring us with their unwavering strength.
Recall the turbulent days of 1963, a year stained by the loss of John F. Kennedy, whose dreams of a new frontier were silenced by an assassin's bullet.
Honor Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr., voices of a revolution that demanded justice and equality, their echoes are still heard in today's struggles.
Bobby Kennedy was a beacon of hope whose journey was tragically abbreviated, yet his call for peace and social justice continues to inspire. Like stars in the night sky, these figures illuminated the path to a more just and equal world.
These years, these figures shaped the world we live in. Their legacies remind us that change is born from courage, that progress demands sacrifice, and that the fight for equality and justice is not a chapter in history but an ongoing narrative that we all contribute to. It's a call to action, a reminder that the fight is not over, and we all have a role to play, emphasizing the urgency and importance of our contributions.
It's a collective effort, a shared responsibility that binds us together in this noble cause.
Robert Sherriff - Australian - Poet -Author - Singer - Actor - American Historian – Photographer
My old friend
In the ever-turning pages of history, specific years stand like pillars, holding up the weight of profound change: 1865, the year of the Civil War's end and the abolition of slavery; 1881, the year of President Garfield's assassination; 1901, the year of President McKinley's assassination and the rise of Theodore Roosevelt; and 1963, the year of President Kennedy's assassination and the Civil Rights Movement.
Will history repeat itself on January 12, 2025? Each of these years marks a moment of transformation, a shift in our nation's consciousness.
Remember 1865, when Abraham Lincoln's vision of unity and equality was cut short, yet his legacy ignited the flame of freedom that still burns bright.
Reflect on 1962 and the iconic moment when Marilyn Monroe serenaded a president, symbolizing the complex interplay between fame and politics. These were not just moments but testaments to the resilience and determination of these historical figures, inspiring us with their unwavering strength.
Recall the turbulent days of 1963, a year stained by the loss of John F. Kennedy, whose dreams of a new frontier were silenced by an assassin's bullet.
Honor Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr., voices of a revolution that demanded justice and equality, their echoes are still heard in today's struggles.
Bobby Kennedy was a beacon of hope whose journey was tragically abbreviated, yet his call for peace and social justice continues to inspire. Like stars in the night sky, these figures illuminated the path to a more just and equal world.
These years, these figures shaped the world we live in. Their legacies remind us that change is born from courage, that progress demands sacrifice, and that the fight for equality and justice is not a chapter in history but an ongoing narrative that we all contribute to. It's a call to action, a reminder that the fight is not over, and we all have a role to play, emphasizing the urgency and importance of our contributions.
It's a collective effort, a shared responsibility that binds us together in this noble cause.
I know that I was born insane
to love so much the face of Death.
Insanity romanced me even when
a child still dwelled beneath infernal skin.
Why could society not understand
that all I’ve ever really wanted equals none?
They knew I never fancied animating flesh
but would not let my life be done.
I couldn't stir myself into the mix
of scribes and commons laying decent laws
demanding that I shadow the shadow cast
by some thin, mortal God.
I've always been enchanted by the doomsday trim
of lightness edged with Death’s esthetic claws
and yet, new dawns decreed I stay
and left me pinched in Life's stiff, rigid pause.
I pined away in darkest corridors for He
who could erase the curse of knowledge learned.
My Alabaster Wraith, He sat with me while Life
held me confined and counted out my every breath
as if a promise that he'd wrest the soil
back from my hollow bones
and press my spirit back into the dust,
so I might find some peace, in the unknown.
I often pled for cruelest remedies
that Life's more favored inmates feared
because each torture treatment let me glimpse
His lethal cowl and my demise.
Mere breaths and heartbeats stood
between my sickness and the cure
for Life's oppression of my soul
that lay too far on Death's frontier.
I've never sought forked-ray lobotomies
or sun-salts poured in night-stained eyes.
I never yearned for freedom or the sun
but revelled in the sweetest dreams
that I would breech the human warehouse walls
but not survive the birth,
become a husk of inert flesh allowed
to find asylum in the earth.
Restraint within a man-made tomb of Life
was all the Hell I ever feared and yet
my mind was so incurable that by and by
I was abandoned by the pious saints...
until there rose a hero on the still walls of
a midnight void of Death's sure faith;
He came and he collected me
my Alabaster Wraith.
Stone testaments commomorate a Life
I never lived or wanted to have lived,
a number chains my bones in place
where people forcefully preserved
Life's longing for itself.
My meatless parts communicate
a warmth for living that I never felt
but balms of death have healed my hate.
I am a champion,
the thought and feel of it is real,the fact being indisputable and the reality pure,
with others,and in singular isolation victory over the misery of disrections is now,and future,
I am a champion because I have led myself and others to victories,
victories over the malvolent and lurid labors,
living,toiling,dreaming,and breathing within the parameters of a system foriegn
to my instincts, alien to this suture,
I am a champion along with others because I weep incredulity
at the untaught magnitude of a work ethic producing abject glories,
brought to my knees,my heart beats rife with pain,fear, & the mud of doubt,
brought to lunacy by the dispassion that consequence savors,
rising, and rising as emotions explode at the chance and moment for domination,
justification, to obliterate the obstacles,making room for stories,
awaking with dry pain in the eyes,nausea,dizziness,despair,
seeking simple reasons for motivation to go forth,
wishing quixotically for more sleep,
finishing the day feeling dumb,dull and brazen like a fenced horse
hungry for edification,rectification,seeing the great steppe with a risk too deep,
going on week after week with new sprains & strains on mind body & spirit,
always some mistake, cuts, bruises, burns & hyperextensions,
compulsively micromanaging,hyperanalysing, a manic finisher,
nothing will dissuade me from the thankless pursuits of daily perfections,
the anatagonists,the ones who sneer & discourage casually at the noble attempts
of the able champions trying to maximize efficiency,to excel,win,
raising that standard which the mediocre claim can't be improved,
I and others jeapordize our health,safety,sanity so to accomplish the impossible,
I receive no grand trophies,new contracts or publicity,
nobody takes my picture or delivers a prize,
there are no special tokens or passwords on the table,
we strive ferociously for the sake of victory,for the knowledge of limits,
this way setting greater goals & tests,
being testaments for others who climb,
do I want acclaim from Deity for my successes,distinction for my sacrafices, no,
I work hard for me and others to be sublime -
J.A.B.
By mercy and truth iniquity is purged.
Righteousness' and peace's lips together merged.
Into the great ark animals marched in pairs,
as Noah continued in obedience and prayers.
In Peleg's day, men's years were cut to half.
Two nations at war --- "son of promise" means "to laugh."
Parallel testaments fuse old with new,
scriptures aligning as smooth as glue.
The next Adam came and fulfilled the whole law.
Entreat Him with humble love and awe.
Between thieves Yeshua was crucified.
Angels greeted His tomb after He died.
Unbelievers will die a second time,
guilty of each committed crime.
The faithful will resurrect unto new life,
greeting their groom as a youthful wife.
Before you, life and death are set.
Choose whom you will serve, love your only debt.
A great light rules the day, and lessor the night.
Wield your shiny sword for truth and might.
No height or depth in all of creation
can separate believers from God's salvation.
No eye has seen; no ear has heard
God's plans beyond the living Word...
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Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.
Psalm 85:10
By mercy and truth iniquity is purged,
and by the fear of God men depart from evil. Proverbs 16:6
*Isaac (Abraham's son) means "laughter" or "he will laugh". "Two nations at war" refers to the ongoing conflict between Muslims and Jews.
No eye has seen no ear has heard the things that God has prepared for those who love him. 1 Corinthians 2:9
Deuteronomy 30:15
See, I have set before thee this day life and good, and death and evil;
Genesis 1:16
And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
Romans 13:8
Owe no man anything, but to love one another, for he that loveth another hath fulfilled the law.
Romans 8:39
Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
1-22-23
As you start to walk out on the way,
the way appears.- Rumi
Tonight, I speak to the moon,
lunar verses echoing the piercing
lyrics of an aching heart.
Its crystal wings softly
kiss the sea line in silence,
releasing silver ripples
of renaissance,
while the sun awaits another
dahlia dawn, graced by
delicate symphonies of
fairy-feathered fantasies.
Time is a treat ribboned
with truth and testaments
of melted monsoons,
left as souvenirs of the past,
on shimmering shores
of fragile flowers.
I was once a broken ballad,
bruised and battered
like an ornament left
on a haunted island,
where every breeze felt
like the seething sounds of sirens,
awakening demons within
my chrysalis psyche,
to cloud the horizon
painted with pigments of peace.
Trust was an ink blot
I spilled upon oceans
of blue-black pearls,
oblivious to the cracks
and faded glows of opalescence,
for I was a naive target
of narcissistic daggers,
caressing my skin with
pestering perceptions.
As I wore my wounds
like corsets crocheted
with crooked compassion,
too eager to embrace
wrathful winds~
bursting forth infernal flames,
while drenched in the
subtle dews of raging rain.
If I were to tell the world
the person I used to be,
could I write without
my fingers trembling,
without the weakened words
of weariness that weighed me down?
For I knew not what love was,
and I knew not
dreams of strength,
runes of resilience, or the
unbreakable gravity of forgiveness.
Yet I rise, beyond faceless ghosts,
soaring above nameless streets
of pointless thoughts.
I am now everything I was not;
I am both shadow and light,
seeking and waltzing to
the music of my own magical fight.
So remember,
the furs and claws,
the water and fire,
outlining the garnet~
aura of my ambient existence.
How can one man find
More faith in a crevasse of Siula Grande,
Than most will ever know,
Sitting beneath a pulpit on Sunday?
Dulling the truth to grow the census,
Merchants and cowards comfort the carnal ear.
Marketing Christ’s love without his conviction,
Left willful in sin with nothing to fear.
In half doctrines and custom alter calls,
Prostituting the truth with all forms of prosperity.
Akin to seeding hookers in the chambers of Heaven.
Deceived to death twice by hand and blasphemy.
Feeding wolves from among your own flocks.
In the banquets of ancient mystics and bride Blavatsky,
Word of Faith gorging on their mammon,
Left choking in an insatiable eternity.
A culture’s blue concessions are gone,
Giving more choices leaving Paul’s letters unread.
No church discipline or discernment left,
Testaments of burning flesh that once bled.
Refusing to submit to be broken.
Fading old blessings from past obedience.
Confusing favor with common grace,
Hypocrisy’s retribution birthed decadence.
Millions claiming the found life of the few,
In every eulogy and requiem,
Lukewarm afterthoughts of the Son,
Losing everything by never knowing him.
Despising the light of the living truth,
Lobotomizing guilt with the scalpel of ignorance.
Finding solace in the darkness of mystery.
Death marches infectious rainbows of tolerance.
Redefining roles and covenants in hemorrhaging lies
Under the pretense of the modern states,
Illusions of enlightenment killing somatic slaves.
Relativism’s heart courting the things he hates.
Enticed by the delusions of utopias,
Bound in the fables of autonomy.
Throats upon The two-edged sword,
In this American tragedy
-------------------------------------------------------
12.04.14
This poem attempts to capture the Fundamentalist view on certain issues with other movements within Christianity. Also, the man in the crevasse, chose a different kind of faith than you may have assumed.
Brave Men Wade Into Shadows On Death's Ground
Power of one secret word can shatter all,
send men into war and deadly harms way.
Dead and dying on battlefields they fall
for dead glory and pittance of pay.
Brave men wade shadows on death's ground
duty bound, praying for divine reprieves.
Bloodshed reigns, ghastly deaths are found
Dark Lord lies, that eternally deceives!
Curse not legions of those fallen brave,
honor rests in dying for a true cause.
Heroes die in pain, as madmen simply rave
wasted lives best give deeper pause!
Blood gushes from spears with iron tips
lives depart in battles forgotten.
Charon sings out about his many trips
ferrying bodies gashed, dead and rotten!
Honor embraced those that fought dying well,
others lay in dark forgotten graves.
Charon took their lost souls deep into Hell
where misery lives, nothing ever saves.
No record exists of battlefield dying words
testaments of mouths gurgling red blood.
Rotting flesh, meals for hell's carrion birds
maggots feasting upon blood soaked mud!
Fear one secret word that can shatter all
duty, honor fail when wrapped in lies.
True warriors live to answer a just call
seeking life later in Vahalla's skies.
Serving truth in defending freedom's fate
they may find death to not be so hard.
Each knows with death they do have a date
a joker resting on at least one card!
Power of one secret word can shatter all,
send men into war and deadly harms way.
Dead and dying on battlefields they fall
for dead glory and pittance of pay.
Brave men wade shadows on death's ground
duty bound, praying for divine reprieves.
Bloodshed reigns, ghastly deaths are found
Dark Lord lies, that eternally deceives!
Robert J. Lindley, 02-10-2015
Note--Bringing this from my private writes in my journal.
July 23 Scripture Meditations Based on Isaiah 49-52
Key Verse – Isaiah 49:8 Thus saith the LORD, In an acceptable time have I heard thee, and in a day of salvation have I helped thee: and I will preserve thee, and give thee for a covenant of the people, to establish the earth, to cause to inherit the desolate heritages.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME
Thank You for helping me in facing difficulties
By Your strengthening opportunities…
Please keep my faith’s steadfastness over human frailties
Here am I trusting You with all my functional faculties.
Thank You for helping me in overcoming hardships
By Your upholding fellowships…
Please inspire my heart’s devotion over worldly friendships
Here am I seeking You with all my ministerial relationships.
Thank You for helping me in facing discouragements
By Your exhorting testaments…
Please meet my need’s urgency over temporal allurements
Here am I abiding in You with all my heavenly investments.
Thank You for helping me in facing crises
By Your fortifying purposes…
Please guard my soul’s tenacity over sinful forces
Here am I depending on You with all my distresses.
Thank You for helping me in subduing struggles
By Your empowering might to soar as do the eagles…
Please pull my devotion’s commitment over lustful tangles
Here am I clinging to You with all my life-angles.
Thank You for helping me in dealing with my deficiencies
By Your satisfying mercies…
Please supply my limitation’s lack over attacking insufficiencies
Here am I learning from You with all my inconsistencies.
Thank You for helping me in fleeing from temptations
By Your guiding instructions…
Please lead my wisdom’s decisions over foolish suggestions
Here am I surrendering to You with all my imperfections.
July 23, 2022